


A Smell Like No Other

by Omi_Ohmy



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Harry Potter Next Generation, Hogwarts, Humor, M/M, Masturbation, Wanking Comment Fest
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-31
Updated: 2013-03-31
Packaged: 2017-12-07 02:58:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,199
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/743399
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Omi_Ohmy/pseuds/Omi_Ohmy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It was just supposed to be a prank. Scorpius was NOT expecting it to turn out quite like this.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Smell Like No Other

**Author's Note:**

> Written for a prompt by birdsofshore in the wonderful alby_mangrove's Wanking Comment Fest. Thanks to birdsofshore for the quick beta too: any remaining mistakes are all my own. 
> 
> Two quick things: this is my first Next Gen fic, and I've not marked it as underage, as the age of consent in the UK is 16, and I've taken sixth-years to be 16+.
> 
> Disclaimer: All Harry Potter characters herein are the property of J.K. Rowling and Bloomsbury/Scholastic. No copyright infringement is intended.

**A Smell Like No Other**  
  
Scorpius had this thing in the bag, he just knew it. Following the whole hair-turned-Weasley-red affair, he had been plotting his revenge on the Gryffindor Quidditch Team. No one messed with the Slytherins. Or his hair.  
  
He brushed a lock of his trademark pale-blonde Malfoy hair back. Yes, this was going to be perfect. It had been fortuitous that he’d heard that bumbling first-year stuttering through the Gryffindor password.  
  
Forty-eight stink bombs were carefully shrunk and nestling in the small velvet draw string bag in the trunk at the foot of his bed. They would create more than a stink: they were charmed to turn everything their noxious cloud touched a wonderful shade of Slytherin green. The colour would last as long as the smell, and if he timed it right, half the Gryffindor team would be sporting the wrong house’s colours come the match on Saturday. And hopefully he wouldn’t notice the smell while he was up in the air.  
  
His attention returned to Professor Longbottom, and his talk on cultivating superior dogwood for use in wandmaking. Or rather, it turned back to Albus Potter. This was only one of two NEWT classes they shared. Scorpius had heard plenty about the rivalry of their fathers at school, but he’d never really been bothered to pay that much attention to the scrawny Seeker. Until that was, the day he’d looked down while taking his morning piss, to find himself greeted by the sight of not just his rather splendid dick, but ginger pubes too. For some reason, he immediately suspected the quiet boy with the cheeky manner who never quite seemed to do enough to get into trouble.  
  
Trying once again to pick up the thread of the Herbology lesson, Scorpius glared at the unruly black hair in front of him, and reminded himself that revenge was best served cold. With a slow smile, he bent his head and went back to his note-taking.  
  
~~  
  
Scorpius forced himself to take a deep breath. He hadn’t anticipated just how busy this corridor was, even when everyone was supposed to be in class. He had studied the timetable carefully, and chosen an hour when he knew that his fellow sixth-years would all be absent, and it was likely so would most other students. He still didn’t know if anyone was on the other side of the portrait, but he was willing to brazen it out. They didn’t call him Big Balls Malfoy just for the size of his tackle.  
  
The fat lady looked down at him scornfully, curling her lip up as he uttered the ridiculous password (‘Hopping Bunnies’), but swung open nonetheless. He stepped through, into the kind of riot of red and tapestry that he had expected from the Gryffindor Common Room. He looked around, but it was empty. Forcing himself to keep his breath even, he headed for the staircase on the right – he had it on good authority that this led to the right dorm. Just the barest traces of Veritaserum in Longbottom’s unguarded cup of tea had been enough to find that out. Thank goodness he’d needed those extra study sessions.  
  
Feeling smug, Scorpius made his way up. Yet more red and gold greeted him, and this room too, was empty. Merlin, these boys were slobs. Half the beds weren’t made, and the bed hangings were either badly tied back or hanging free. It was obvious that they enforced the Granger house-elf rules here. No chance of that in Slytherin. In his house, house-elves were still expected to work in the old way: not seen, always there.  
  
Looking over the room once more, his mind began to look at it differently: he needed to get to work. All he needed was to find the right place to leave the stinkbombs, and then he could place the correct timing charm over them…  
  
In the end, Scorpius chose to stick them amongst the folds at the top of the curtains in each bed. On the inside. He snorted at the thought of Albus and all the rest of them, waking from the power of the stench, foul and acrid, as it assailed their noses, and then discovering that the world had turned emerald too. Oh yes, this was worth the time and effort it had taken to perfect the timing charm, and to make those extra little changes to the stink bombs. It had been fiddly work, but nothing good ever came for free, did it?  
  
He had got around four of the beds when he heard it: the distinct sound of the doorknob rattling as it turned.  
  
“I’ve just forgotten something, won’t be a second!” The words were shouted out, in that uncouth, Gryffindor fashion. Scorpius recognised the rough vowels of Joseph Stubbs. Without thinking, he dived into the nearest bed, which also happened to be one with its hangings drawn tight. He made himself as small as he could, and hoped that whatever it was that Joe was looking for wasn’t located in these rumpled sheets and blankets.  
  
The sound of a trunk opening on the other side of the room, followed by some general rummaging and light cursing, was enough to assuage Scorpius’s fears. He didn’t dare move too much, but relaxed a little, sighing into the mattress below. As he forced himself to keep his breaths calm, Scorpius couldn’t help but notice the unique aroma he was breathing in. It was different to the general unclean-sock miasma of the room. It was… he took a deep breath.  
  
It was rich. Like… he inhaled again, and his mouth watered. He could almost taste it, like the finest steak, or his father’s best wine. He swallowed. Merlin. It was also almost spicy, and it made him want to stretch out and—  
  
The sound of the door slamming as it shut made Scorpius jump a little. Ah yes, Joe must have found whatever it was and returned to his friends. It must be the halfway-point in the two-hour slot, when they changed classes. He relaxed again, knowing that he had a good hour left, which was perfect really, as he was halfway through the room, and with each bed he was getting quicker. In fact, he had time to lie here for just a little longer. It was warm, and he could admit to himself, it smelled good in here. Taking another deep breath, Scorpius tried once more to place that scent. Unbidden, his tongue licked around his lips. It was making him feel… hungry. No, not that, something different.  
  
Without thinking about it, his hand found its way to his groin. In the half-light of the drawn curtains, this could be his bed, in the morning. He was semi-hard, just from this delicious aroma. It put him in mind of those wonderful moments just before or after sleep, when his whole body was relaxed, and he could indulge in his favourite pastime, happy in the knowledge that no one would disturb him, with his curtains locked shut and a silencing charm up.  
  
In fact… he knew no one was going to be disturbing him now. And it would probably only take half an hour to finish placing all the stink bombs. What better way to toss a metaphorical finger up at the bloody Gryffindors?  
  
He made short work of his flies, happily pushing down underwear and trousers. The cool air licked at his balls as he gently gripped himself, letting himself inhale that amazing smell as he stroked himself to full hardness. Oh, yes: this was going to be  _wonderful_. He could just tell, and if there was one thing he was an expert on, it was this.  
  
Lying in the midst of this intoxicating smell, while trespassing in the Gryffindor dorm… the thought of it thrilled Scorpius, and he groaned. This was definitely one of his better ideas. Better even than that time he’d had a swift wank in the showers while he could hear the Gryffindors getting changed in the locker room.  
  
He settled into the familiar rhythm. Merlin, he loved doing this. He loved the feeling of his cock, full and heavy in his hand, and the electric thrill as he ran his thumb over his head, the rolling pull of his foreskin, the delicious way he could make his body react with a well-placed squeeze or twist.  
  
Somehow, today, it wasn’t enough though. He wanted to take a huge  _bite_  out of whatever it was that smelled that good, and the extra stimulation his senses were receiving seemed to need him to provide a little extra… something to the whole experience. He reached down with his other hand, maintaining long, slow strokes to keep himself from coming too soon. He’d only started doing this new thing recently, but it just felt  _so good_. First, he brushed his balls, enjoying the sensation as they tightened at the touch. He couldn’t help the small groan that escaped him. His eyes were shut tight now, as he focused on the agonisingly slow beat of his hand – too slow to get to the edge, but bringing him so close, so very close.  
  
He took another deep breath, readying himself for what would happen next. Somehow he wasn’t expecting to be assaulted again by the power of that smell but, oh Merlin! It was incredible. He arched his back, stretching his legs right out to the toes. He turned his head once more into the soft sheets, unashamedly taking in another rousing lungful. It was intoxicating; Scorpius felt light-headed, as if he had been drinking.  
  
His hand moved down from this balls, further back, the angle awkward but oh so worth it, for the thrill he felt at such wanton behaviour if nothing else. The feeling of his fingers brushing across the space between balls and hole almost more than he could bear, all whispering sparks of heat, and he felt his balls tightening.  _Not yet_ , he told himself. He tried to ease his suddenly shallow breath, slow it down, before moving to the downright _naughtiness_  that came next.  
  
Carefully, he ran his finger across the sensitive, tightly knotted ring of muscle that was his arsehole. Oh, Merlin, that was good. The first time he had done this, he had come straight away. He had learned, pretty swiftly, that he  _loved_  his arsehole being touched. And more. It felt so brazen, touching himself there. Again and again, matching the rhythm of his strokes, he ran his finger across and over, around and around. He bit down on his lip, dimly aware of the heat on his face, his chest, his whole body, of the tiny stings of perspiration on his nose.  
  
Bringing up the speed of his strokes, rubbing his thumb on that place, so sensitive, just there on his glans, he finally thrust his finger into his warm, tight arse. He wished, somehow, that it was more than just his solitary digit, and yet it still felt like nothing else, this penetration. A cry broke from his lips as a shock ran through his body, and he could tell that this was it, there was no going back, no stopping it now.  
  
A strangled sound broke his focus, and Scorpius opened his eyes to see Albus Potter staring at him, his face flushed red and the bed curtain drawn back by his hand. Scorpius’s body didn’t care though, and as their eyes met, he came, big thick spurts of come shooting from his cock, landing on the sheets, his robes, his hand.  
  
The room was filled with absolute silence as they regarded each other. A wave of blissed-out relaxation was passing through Scorpius’s traitor body, a wearying lassitude that blunted his ability to give a shit about being caught. He noticed though, how Albus’s eyes had darted down to his still-tumescent prick. And lingered there.  
  
Scorpius cleared his throat. “So is this your bed, then?”  
  
“What?” Albus looked back up at his face. He shook his head slightly, as if trying to clear it of cobwebs. “Er, yes, actually, it is.” He paused and then his eyes narrowed as he seemed to remember where he was. “What the fuck do you think you’re doing in my bed?”  
  
It was too tempting. A slow, sensuous smile crept over Scorpius’s face. “What does it look like?” he said, slowly brushing his hand over his cock.  
  
Albus’s eye’s widened, and then Scorpius saw it, the moment the challenge was taken up. A spark of defiance lit Albus’s face.  
  
“No one wanks in my bed, except for me.”  
  
“I think you’ll find that you’re wrong, there,” said Scorpius, deliberately trailing his finger through the cooling come splattered on the sheets.  
  
Before Scorpius knew it, Albus was knelt on the bed beside him. Albus leaned forward, his hands dipping the bed down by Scorpius’s head. When he was almost nose to nose with Scorpius, he spoke.  
  
“No one wanks here, but me.” His voice was a low growl, and Scorpius shivered at the sound of it. And then he caught it: the scent, rich and clear, so much better than anything on the sheets. He closed his eyes and inhaled. Dear Merlin, it was Albus. That an actual living, breathing person could smell this good was… Scorpius’s mind stopped working at this point, so instead he leant forwards and licked Albus at the top of his cheek, and groaned at the musky salty taste on his tongue. Oh yes, he tasted as good as he smelled.  
  
When Scorpius opened his eyes again, Albus was sat back on his heels, and staring at him as if he had sprouted antlers.  
  
Scorpius licked his lips. “Mmm, you taste good.”  
  
Albus twitched, as if suddenly uncomfortable. Scorpius noted that Albus’s eyes had tracked the path of his tongue. And then he looked lower, and saw the tell-tale bulge in Albus’s trousers. Big Balls Malfoy decided that this definitely merited a new plan of action. He sat up, aware all the time of the scared-rabbit eyes on him. Scorpius felt a thrill of anticipation: oh, Albus hadn’t seen  _anything_  yet.  
  
“As I said, I think you will find that it’s not just you who wanks in this bed.” With these words, Scorpius leaned forward, and touched his hand to the straining erection in front of him. He rubbed a circle with the heel of his hand, and Albus gritted his teeth together and closed his eyes. “Oh, I think that we can do better than this,” Scorpius murmured, as he reached for the fastenings on Albus’s trousers.  
  
He liberated Albus’s cock, moving as fast as he could before Albus could change his mind. And it was beautiful, he could see that. A shade darker than the blushing face in front of him, and standing so tall. Albus’s eyes dragged open, his lids heavy as he regarded Scorpius. Neither spoke, but Scorpius took the heated look to mean that he should continue.  
  
If he’d thought that he’d liked the feel of his own cock in his hand, it was nothing to this. Silky smooth skin, flushed with heat and subtly different to his own. Scorpius stroked up to the tip of the head, then wrapped his hand around and gave an experimental squeeze. Albus’s mouth fell open as he breathed in. His mouth was just as perfect as his cock. Why hadn’t Scorpius noticed before? His lips were all pink and curved and wet. With thinking, he leaned in and kissed Albus, even as his hand began to move.  
  
The taste! Scorpius wanted to eat Albus whole. The wet slide of tongues, the hungry moving of mouths jostled with the feelings of pulling and stroking the wonderful hot cock in his hands.  
  
Scorpius wanted it all. He kissed with abandon, his body thrilling as Albus kissed back with a matching passion. All the while, he used every possible move he’d spent the past few years mastering, twisting and teasing, building the rhythm of his hands until Albus pulled back, panting.  
  
It was enough to watch as Albus threw his head back, making the most wonderfully obscene noises. Just as Albus’s breathing was growing shaky, the moans becoming more ragged, Scorpius dipped his head into Albus’s lap, wanting to smell as well as touch. Here the scent was strongest, and Scorpius ran his nose up the length of Albus’s cock. With one final moan, Albus came, and Scorpius knew that he had to taste this, too. He let the come fall in his mouth, onto this face. It was strong in flavour, but carried the echoes of everything else: the scent on the sheets, the taste of Albus’s skin and mouth.  
  
He sat up and licked around his lips. He wanted to do all that again. But with fewer clothes.  
  
“Fuck.” Albus stretched the word out.  
  
“Yeah.”  
  
They eyed each other warily.  _In for a Knut, in for a Galleon._  Scorpius leaned forwards again, this time bringing his hand to the side of Albus’s face. This kiss was more gentle. More tender.  
  
When they broke apart, Albus spoke first. “Can we do that again?”  
  
Scorpius nodded, suddenly shy.  
  
It was at that moment that he moved his hand to get more comfortable, and felt the velvet beneath his skin, followed by the sharp crack of glass breaking.  
  
~~  
  
“It smells absolutely dreadful, Headmistress,” said Madam Pomfrey with a pursing of her lips. “Neither of the boys will say who was behind the prank, but young Malfoy being in the Gryffindor dorms does rather suggest that—“  
  
“Yes, I know. I’ll be dealing with it properly once they leave the infirmary.” Minerva removed her glasses and rubbed at her eyes. Whatever Poppy thought, Minerva knew what she’d seen when she’d pulled back the curtain, after the alarm had been raised when there had been an explosion of green in the Gryffindor tower. The boys had seemed far from antagonistic. Or dressed, for that matter.  
  
“I’ve got no choice but to keep them in quarantine until it wears off.”  
  
“Most wise,” said Minerva.  
  
“The room is self-contained, with its own bathroom and food sent in by house-elves, so no one needs to go in until the smell has faded. Luckily for them, it seems that after the first hour, those under the enchantment can’t smell it at all. But as for the rest of us…”  
  
Minerva nodded, unable to avoid the shudder at the memory of the stench which had filled her nose in that room.  
  
“The only thing is, and it’s why I’m consulting you: I’m a little worried about the two of them. You know, given the history between their fathers—“  
  
“Oh, I don’t think that is going to be an issue. Just… please do knock before you go in.”  
  
Minerva walked away, hoping never to have to see the colour green again. Some things, a teacher should never have to see. The memory of the smell was easier for her to focus on, and it did tend to obliterate everything else. As she felt her stomach turn, Minerva reflected that at least it seemed that the Gryffindor-Slytherin rivalry might finally get laid to rest.


End file.
